


Marking the New Year

by capnwho



Category: Magnum P.I. (TV 2018)
Genre: Canonverse to start, F/M, New Year's Eve, Romance, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:35:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22057879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capnwho/pseuds/capnwho
Summary: Magnum doesn't live in a world where soulmates are a thing.At least, he doesn't think he does. When people suddenly get soulmarks, it sparks a bit of reevaluation on the topic.
Relationships: Juliet Higgins/Thomas Sullivan Magnum IV
Comments: 42
Kudos: 221
Collections: My Favorite Magnum PI One-shots (Miggy)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Do I have other WIPs I should be working on? Absolutely. Am I doing this instead? 
> 
> Yup.
> 
> Takes place roughly nowish in the show. 

The problem isn't so much that everyone has soulmates. The problem is that the existence of soulmates comes into being--or at least makes itself known--without any warning.

There's no such thing as anything like magic until then, of course. It's the real world, after all.

But as the clock strikes midnight, signaling the start of a new year, suddenly, everyone alive has a soulmark.

The rumors start hours before midnight reaches Hawaii, and it's all anyone in the bar is talking about. 

Surprisingly, Rick and TC both seem pretty open-minded about the whole thing, and Katsumoto is even outright supportive.

"Do I believe people are suddenly getting matching marks with their soulmates at some arbitrary time?” asks the detective. “I'm not sure. We'll find out in a couple hours, won't we? But do I believe that soulmates exist and that we all have one? Absolutely."

“You really believe in soulmates, detective?” Magnum asks. It’s possible he would’ve been a little bit receptive to the idea, but he’s not really one to resist a good argument if it’s right there in front of him. “And that something can just show up on your skin to tell you who they are? I think people change more than a tattoo can account for.”

Katsumoto shrugs. “I figure something omniscient enough to know who you’re supposed to be with takes things like changing personalities into account. It would have to know who you’re supposed to end up with, not just who you get along with at a certain point in your life, or as a teen. Not unless you’re lucky enough to find your soulmate that young.”

“Never figured you for a romantic, detective,” says TC. 

“What can I say,” jokes Katsumoto. “I’ve got depths.”

The banter continues. Higgins is unusually quiet next to Magnum, watching the news reports. He can tell by the healthy dose of skepticism on her face that she doesn’t buy into any of it. Mangum, despite himself, gets caught up in listening to the television.

Apparently, every single person gets a soulmate at their relative midnight. Those traveling got their soulmarks as they crossed into the time zone that held the next year. The reports of people without soulmarks dwindle quickly; it turns out, soulmarks can show up anywhere on the body, and some just take a little bit more effort to find. Some marks are in color, some aren’t, and nobody’s quite sure the difference yet, though the obvious theory is that color means you’ve met your soulmate.

“This same stuff is on every station,” Thomas comments when it cuts to commercial. “Maybe there’s some truth to it. The marks, at least. Not so sure about soulmates.”

Higgins huffs. “Right. I can  _ perhaps  _ buy that somehow people are developing spontaneous, matching tattoos, though even that’s a stretch. But soulmates?” Dark memories flash through her eyes before she takes a sip of her drink. “That requires a lot of faith in the world.”

Magnum frowns. He can see her point, sure… Finding the perfect person to spend your life with isn’t a guarantee of happiness, but it’s pretty damned close, and if this is real, it means the universe is giving people a huge advantage in finding their happy endings. Still, the fact that Higgins still struggles with believing there’s good and happiness in the world and that she’s entitled to both is concerning.

“Juliet--”

“Not now, Magnum.” Her tone isn’t cruel or angry, but it is cold and flat, so he drops it.

For now.

Nobody in their group of friends kisses at midnight, of course. They’re not like that. They do, however, start looking for the new ink they’re supposed to have.

Most of them, anyway. Higgins continues nursing her drink and staring at the TV like nothing’s happened.

Hell, for all Magnum knows, nothing  _ has _ happened. He glances over his exposed skin. He’s a little anxious, but he’s not sure exactly why. It’s not like he believes in this, not really. There’s nothing new on his hands or what he can see of his arms. 

Rick is the first to find one on himself, on the inside of his wrist. It’s more elaborate than Magnum is expecting, some sort of bird flying in front of trees, a lot of detail in a space that’s only about an inch and a half wide. It’s black, the kind of black that stands out as negative color, not just presence of darkness, like something’s missing. Rick definitely didn’t have it a few minutes ago.

Interesting.

Magnum is wearing jeans, which he’s not about to take off at the bar, but he can and does shrug out of his shirt.

He finds it on his left bicep. It’s the same lack-of-color as Rick’s, but that’s where the similarities end. It’s a little larger than his friend’s, and it’s of a beach. It looks vaguely familiar, almost definitely a local beach given the background, but there aren’t any landmarks that make it unique. 

“Huh,” is all Magnum says out loud. He sees Higgins glance over at him, knows she can see the mark, but she looks back at the screen before he can decide whether to say anything. Internally, he shrugs, and he puts his shirt back on before tuning in to what’s going on with the rest of their friends.

TC has found his soulmark near his foot, and Katsumoto’s is on his chest. The detective’s is the only one in color. Whereas the ones in black and white seem like they’re missing something, waiting for something, the one in color practically radiates a sense of completion. 

It fills Thomas with an unexpectedly sharp longing to see his own mark in color, and he has to shake his head to snap out of it.

***

Over the next few weeks, life pretty much goes on as usual. There are a few changes, though.

Talking about soulmates becomes as normal as talking about the weather. There are some who decide it’s a private matter, but for the most part, people  _ want  _ to talk about it. The marks are easy to differentiate from tattoos, not just visibly but on a gut level that goes a long way toward convincing Magnum that maybe there’s something to these magically appearing marks.

People figure out a lot more about the marks. Babies are born with them now, it seems. Blind people can sense the location of their marks and even something of what the marks show. Folks who have to get a mark’s location amputated report that the mark moves to somewhere else. Marks are in identical locations on soulmate pairs, and if it moves for one, it also moves for the other. There’s still a little bit of debate over when the tattoos change color, but the most popular theory, the one settling into fact, is that your mark changes color when you’ve met your soulmate  _ and  _ accepted them as your other half.

Katsumoto, as the only one of their group who already believed in soulmates before this, had a leg up on that one. He’s quiet about his soulmate, but there’s a contentment in the detective that wasn’t there before, and again, Magnum finds himself longing for it more than he expects.

Higgins’ changes are about what he expects after her tension in the bar: she wears more clothing than usual, and she refuses to talk about soulmates. 

Mostly, he lets her get away with it. He’s figured out through terse exchanges that she does have a mark and that she knows where it is, but he hasn’t figured out where, or what it is, or whether it’s in color.

He hopes, at least, that it isn’t gray, which is apparently what happens to people who’ve met their soulmate only to have them die. The fact that some folks with gray marks also have another mark, and the fact that a handful of people have more than one mark, have been great sources of debate about what that means for fate and destiny and romance.

Magnum’s partner, though, won’t debate anything about the topic. It means he does even more of the idle chit-chat than usual while they’re working cases, which he wouldn’t really mind if he weren’t so worried about her.

He’s not even sure why he’s worried, exactly. It’s just… Some part of him is starting to accept that maybe soulmates are a real thing, and he knows how badly he wants to have the same kind of contentment as Katsumoto does, and he can’t stand thinking that maybe she wants it, too, but won’t admit it to herself.

What’s she going to miss out on if she doesn’t even  _ try _ ?

Thomas decides maybe he can try for her. If he knows what her tattoo is, or even where it is, maybe he can help find whoever she’s supposed to be with, whoever’s going to make her as happy as she deserves. 

He tries joining her for yoga, knowing how much skin tends to be on display there, but she’s started wearing some sort of loose garment that stays in place way more than it seems like it should. 

He gets them a job that requires getting dressed up for a charity dance event. He hopes she’ll wear something sleeveless, at least, or short, maybe both. Instead, she wears a form-fitting dress that hugs every one of her curves in a way that makes him swallow, hard. There’s a slit at the bottom of, but she wears thigh high boots with it, as well as gloves, and somehow manages to show even less skin than usual.

Thomas starts feeling a little creepy at this point, despite his good intentions--he refuses to think it might be because of how good she looked in that dress, or how she felt pressed up against him as they danced--so he makes just one last plan, promising himself that he’ll stop trying if it doesn’t work. 

“Hey, Higgy,” he says. It’s Valentine’s Day, which means it’s been about six weeks since the world changed, and all the madness is starting to feel pretty normal. “Can you do me a favor?”

“What is it, Magnum?” She stops typing long enough to glance at him with her usual fond exasperation, and he feels himself grinning in response.

“So I know you don’t like talking about the soulmate stuff,” he says, holding up his hands when she looks immediately ready to object, “and you don’t have to!” He waits until she closes her mouth before he continues. “But you know I’ve got a stretch of beach on my mark, right? Well I was hoping to check out a couple beaches, maybe see if I can figure out where it is. If it’s a real place.” He holds his breath waiting for a response.

“And you want my help?”

It’s not a no.

“It’s kinda hard to look at my own bicep without moving the skin in some way,” he explains, having already thought this whole thing through. “It would help if I had someone who could look at it more objectively, and you’re great at that kind of thing.”

She studies him, and Magnum isn’t at all sure what’s going on in her mind, but what she says is, “Do you think you’ll find your soulmate if you find the right stretch of beach?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “Couldn’t hurt, right?”

“You never know,” she says, but then she pulls on the polite face she uses for work and nods. “Fine. Give me a few minutes to change.”

He waits for her. He’s already wearing swim trunks and a shirt that’s easy to take off. He’s not expecting her to come out in a bikini or anything like that. In fact, he expects she’ll be just as covered up as she has been since the year started, but he’s got a plan.

His brain stutters to a stop when she comes out of her room far less dressed than he’s seen her in weeks. She’s wearing shorts and sandals, plus a tank top with a baggy shirt unbuttoned over it. He can see unmarked skin from her elbows to her fingertips, and along the expanse of skin at her chest, and down her exposed legs.

She smirks at his silence. Of course she’s figured out by now that he’s been trying to find her tattoo.

But really, it’s not the extra skin showing that makes it hard for him to talk. It’s that she looks relaxed and playful in a way he hasn’t seen in far too long, and all her attention is on him.

It’s a lot to deal with, really. And he still hasn’t seen signs of a mark.

Magnum pulls himself together. “I thought we’d check out the beach here, first,” he says. “I haven’t actually been down to the water in a while, and you never know, right?”

“Of course.”

They walk in near silence. Thomas is used to companionable silence with Juliet--they work together all the time, and they’re pretty damned good at being partners, and that includes just existing together sometimes--but it feels different. It feels charged, and he has this completely irrational desire to put an arm around her as they go. It takes nearly all his concentration to avoid doing just that. 

When they reach the sand, Juliet pauses, looking at him pointedly.

“What?” he asks, a little self-conscious. 

“You want me to look at your mark, correct?”

“Right.” 

_ Snap out of it. _

Magnum shakes his head and strips above the waist. Juliet’s eyes are locked on his mark as soon as it’s exposed, like she remembers  _ exactly _ where it is, even though, to the best of his knowledge, she’s only seen it the once. 

For the first time, Magnum finds himself wondering whether maybe…

He can see a lot of her, but he can’t see her left bicep, and what if…

Maybe the reason Juliet won’t talk to him about the whole soulmate thing even after it’s been over a month is that she already knows she’s his soulmate.

The longing he feels at the thought of his tattoo being complete is nothing compared to what he feels once he finally lets himself consider that maybe Juliet is his other half. That’s tempered, of course, by the fact that, if it’s true, she’s hidden it from him.

She would only do that if she wasn’t ready or if she didn’t want him, right?

Suddenly, he finds himself doubting his plan. He was going to talk her into going into the water with him, get her clothes wet enough that she’d want to take off any extras, but now that feels wrong.

Because now that he’s considered it, he’s nearly certain he’s right. And if Juliet is his soulmate--and she has to be, he can feel it in his core--then he should probably wait until she’s ready to admit it.

Luckily, she doesn’t seem to notice either his life-changing revelation or his internal debate, eyes fixed on his arm as they are. By the time she looks back at his face, he’s pretty much gotten himself under control. There’s something in her eyes, though, some emotion he’s seen only flickers of, and when he licks his lips to ready himself to talk, her gaze drops for the briefest moment.

“What do you think?” he manages. His voice is pretty steady considering his whole world has just turned upside down and then righted itself.

Of course his partner completes him. She always has, even since before he was willing to admit he could stand her.

Juliet blinks and looks around the beach. “It could be,” she says, uncertain or distracted. She turns back to him, steps closer, then reaches out a hand, stopping just shy of contact with his mark. “May I?”

“Knock yourself out,” he murmurs. His breath nearly stops when her fingertips graze his skin. He hadn’t thought the mark was more sensitive than the skin around it, but her gentle touch feels like it’s setting him on fire.

She traces the features of the mark like she’s memorizing it, and it looks like she’s letting down her guard even further and like maybe she’s going to say something.

Then, abruptly, she pulls away and turns from him. “I don’t think it’s this beach,” she says, her voice much too tight for the situation. “Maybe you should get someone else to help.”

“Juliet,” he says, closing the distance between them so he’s at her back. She doesn’t turn, but he can tell she knows he’s there, and she doesn’t move. “Talk to me.” He rests his hands carefully atop her shoulders.

He’s expecting her to stiffen, and he’s ready to let go when she does, or he thinks maybe she’ll just ignore his touch entirely. Instead, she leans back against him, like she no longer has the strength to stand on her own. “Thomas,” she breathes.

It’s quiet, his heart pounding against her back as he waits for her to say whatever she’s going to say.

“I don’t care how obvious the universe makes it,” she says finally. “I don’t know whether I can ever believe two people really are perfect for each other in a way that nothing can break.”

“You don’t have to,” he answers. “But maybe you should at least try. See what happens.”

She straightens and spins to face him, almost too quickly for him to register. She looks at him, and there’s that expression in her eyes again. His hands are still raised from where they were on her shoulders. He drops one to his side, then reaches out with the other, watching for any signs of objection.

There are none. 

He starts at her face, cupping her cheek. Her eyes flutter for a moment, like they’re going to shut, but then they fix intently on his as he starts moving downward. He skims along the soft skin of her neck, then over across her collarbone. He slides his fingers beneath the shoulder of her overshirt, still moving slowly enough for her to stop him.

It’s not until he’s slid the sleeve off her shoulder entirely that he breaks eye contact, looking down at her bicep to find what he’s already sure is there.

There’s a black outline of a familiar beach. It’s a perfect match. 

He looks back to her face. He wants to kiss her, or to hold her, or to shake her for hiding this for so long, except she looks terrified. Magnum takes a steadying breath, ready to step back.

“We can pretend I never saw it,” he says, wanting to kick himself for the offer but knowing he couldn’t live with himself if he forced this, “if that’s what you need.”

A second passes, then another. Then a very familiar look of determination and bravery crosses over Higgins’ face, and it’s the only warning Magnum gets before she’s kissing him. His arms wrap around her like they belong there, and she pulls him so close that he loses his balance, and then they’re down on the sand, laughing. He kisses her again, then once more before letting his hand drop to her mark.

He’s suddenly distracted by the sight of it; it’s very much in color. There’s a gorgeous sunset in the background, and as much as Magnum had longed to see his own tattoo in color, he feels absolutely no need to look at his own arm, not right now.

Instead, he kisses Juliet again, and revels in the sense of rightness as his soulmate smiles against his lips.


	2. Juliet's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Covering the same time period as the first chapter, but from Juliet's point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is later than planned, but in addition to everything going on in the world, I’m recovering from knee surgery and happily adjusting to a new person in my life. Life has been good, but not particularly conducive to writing. I hope everyone who reads this is doing okay <3
> 
> I used to read and write in British fandoms, but I’m far out of practice. Despite the Juliet POV, don’t expect British spellings, and expect me to forget to translate some slang away from Americanisms ;)
> 
> Thank you always to the amazing ClaudiaRain.
> 
> Other than that, here’s Juliet’s POV! Enjoy!

The entire premise is ridiculous. Sure, maybe when Juliet was with Richard, then maybe she would have entertained the idea that everyone has a perfect person they’re supposed to be with.

Maybe. She’s not even certain about then, really. She had no doubts they would be happy, and she was looking forward to their life together before he--

_ Soulmates _ , however, seems a little far fetched, as sudden rumors go. The bar’s television has been droning on and on about it for hours, reporting how people are developing marks that indicate their soulmates, and how everything else is just a guess, and a few minutes shy of midnight in Hawaii, she’s already quite sick of it. 

“This same stuff is on every station,” Thomas comments when it cuts to commercial. “Maybe there’s some truth to it. The marks, at least. Not so sure about soulmates.”

Juliet huffs. “Right. I can perhaps buy that somehow people are developing spontaneous, matching tattoos, though even that’s a stretch. But soulmates?” If Richard were her soulmate, then surely they’d have had more time together. And what are the chances she’ll let herself feel that way about someone ever again? Juliet takes a sip of her drink, trying to wash away the past. “That requires a lot of faith in the world.”

“Juliet--” Thomas sounds concerned, and maybe like he’s going to try to talk her out of her caution again, and she’s just not in the mood.

“Not now, Magnum.”

Mercifully, he drops it. He gets to her far too often, it seems like, with his convictions and his blessed  _ optimism _ . Life is easier without adding in that kind of disappointment. She stares determinedly at the television, letting the speculation wash over her. She ignores everything else as the clock reaches midnight, as her friends find their various new marks.

It’s not until Magnum utters a simple “huh” that her focused lack-of-focus breaks. Juliet looks his direction, despite every instinct screaming otherwise.

He’s looking down at his bicep, which has a tattoo of the most appealing stretch of beach Juliet can ever recall seeing. She’s struck hard with the absurd desire to reach out and touch it, and she forces her eyes back to the television just as he notices her attention.

If there’s anything good in this world, he has no idea just how much attention she was paying his mark, or how hard it is, all of the sudden, to keep from looking for her own.

***

When she gets back to her room at Robin’s Nest, she sits on the edge of her bed, exhaling as she pets Zeus and Apollo. They seem worried about her, whining and pressing against her in uncharacteristic ways, but she can’t quite bring herself to tell them to leave. Instead, she focuses on her breathing for a few minutes, as she would in yoga.

Deliberate. Mindful. Controlled.

Finally, she relaxes enough to give the dogs a gentle, “Go on,” and they comply, leaving her to herself.

She’d like to avoid looking for a new tattoo. It’d be best if she could just ignore it, pretend it didn’t exist. However, regardless of the implications, it does seem everyone has one, and she’d rather find her own by herself, rather than be surprised by it if somebody else happens to see it before she does.

Inhale. Exhale. Her mind is clear enough to do this without being bogged down by thoughts of Richard or by possibilities.

She starts with her shirt, folding it and setting it neatly beside her before she looks down at herself. It’s not a conscious thought, starting with the same arm where she saw Thomas’s tattoo. Why would it be? 

However, start there she does, and her search is immediately over.

There’s a perfect stretch of beach, in all black, a perfect replica of the one on Magnum’s arm.

Her breath falters as the possible implications she’s been avoiding slam into her.

_ Thomas Magnum is my soulmate. _

After seeing the mark, she knows it’s true, can feel it in her bones. Juliet thinks she probably knew even before finding it, as soon as she set eyes on his mark, but now there’s no denying it. That fact is a piece of her, as much as her name or her past or the fact that she was certain she’d never find love again after Richard.

_ Richard. _

Juliet gasps quietly and covers her mouth as a wave of grief crashes into her. Does this mean that Richard was never her soulmate? 

It feels like losing him all over again, the pain is so sharp. She’s not sure how long it takes over, but when she starts being able to think properly again, Juliet is curled on her side, face pressed into her pillow.

Inhale, exhale. She again focuses on her breathing until she feels like she can stave off another onslaught, then tries to think about the situation as logically as she can.

She was certain Richard was the love of her life. If the universe is telling her that she’s wrong, then she’s not fit to be anybody’s soulmate, is she? Not if she’s that bad a judge of everything.

Magnum’s never shown any interest in her that way, not really. They wouldn’t be good for each other, not in a romantic way. Thomas loves with all his heart, hopelessly, recklessly. Juliet can’t even fathom what that feels like.

This changes nothing. For him to know would be catastrophic. 

Juliet takes another deep breath, then straightens out in the bed, getting more comfortable despite the fact that she’s still mostly dressed.

She can handle this. All she has to do is make certain she wears sleeves, and avoid talking with Magnum or any of the team about soulmates. 

It shouldn’t be hard at all.

***

It is, in fact, difficult verging on impossible. Everyone on the damned planet wants to discuss soulmates, and Thomas seems determined to figure out where her soulmark is. He’s cut back on actually asking her directly after she made it clear she wasn’t going to answer, but he watches her. He takes note of her clothing, so she makes an effort to be more careful about her choices.

It takes gargantuan effort for her to avoid staring whenever Magnum’s mark is exposed, and nearly as much to avoid touching it. 

By the time more information is confirmed, such as the fact that deceased soulmates’ marks turn grey and that some people have multiple soulmates, living or otherwise, the fact that her partner is also her soulmate has stopped surprising her on any level.

Even at their most antagonistic, they’ve always worked well together.

Granted, there’s another night of grief when she dares to check herself more thoroughly and fails to find a second soulmark for Richard.

Despite that, and despite the fact that she has to try so hard to avoid giving away her secrets to someone who knows her so well, she makes it through six weeks of the new status quo--including a formal dance that tries every last bit of her fortitude--before she’s presented with a hurdle she’s not sure she can overcome.

“Hey, Higgy,” Magnum says on Valentine’s Day, his tone much too casual to cause anything but suspicion. “Can you do me a favor?”

Juliet finishes the sentence she’s typing, steeling herself for a moment before looking at him as naturally as she can manage. “What is it, Magnum?”

He wants her to help him find his soulmate.

Well, not his soulmate directly, but the beach that’s in his-- _ their _ \--tattoo.

Thomas Magnum is going to be the death of her. He looks so damned hopeful that she finds herself agreeing despite her better judgement. She can, at least, make sure that she’s showing none of her terror before she excuses herself to change into more appropriate clothing.

As she changes, however, she realizes that she doesn’t, actually, feel terror anymore about his finding out. Not really. It still feels overwhelming, life changing, all the things that it would be if he knew.

Most of the fear, though, is gone. There’s still a kernel of it, a sliver of self that’s telling her that she would bring him down and he would drive her mad, but without even noticing it, she’s passed the tipping point to where contentment and a sense of rightness have begun to outweigh and then overwhelm that fear.

Juliet pulls on shorts and a sleeveless top that she knows flatters her figure. She pauses in front of her mirror, looking at her soulmark. For a moment, she considers joining him just like this, with the mark on display. She can almost picture his face, see his jaw dropping, see him look at her and know that--

There’s that little bit of hesitation still remaining. She’s almost ready, she thinks, despite how unimaginable that possibility seemed just a little over a month ago. Juliet exhales, then grabs a blouse, leaving it unbuttoned over her top. Her mark is still covered, but it’s easy to expose. It feels right.

When she rejoins Thomas, she’s feeling like she’s truly herself for the first time since the new year began. She doesn’t feel like she needs to keep distance between them, doesn’t feel like she needs to keep him at arm’s length.

When Magnum gets distracted by the amount of skin she’s showing for a solid two seconds before he remembers to actually look for the soulmark she’s still hiding, she’s relaxed enough to smirk.

They make their way down to the nearest beach. She spends enough time there that she knows it’s not quite right, not a match for the beach on their tattoo, but she’s been pretending not to have his mark completely memorized, so she doesn’t object. 

The silence as they walk is… complicated. It’s comfort layered on uneven knowledge and unspoken wants. 

When they reach the beach, Juliet turns to Thomas, waiting for him to show her the mark that she really shouldn’t already know every line of. It takes him a minute to figure out what she’s waiting for, and he seems flustered as he removes his shirt.

It’s not the first time Juliet has seen Magnum without a shirt, but he is a very attractive man, and her attention would normally falter for at least a moment. However, this particular disrobing is for a specific purpose that has the vast majority of her attention, so her eyes fall immediately on his mark, soaking in the familiar details. If she thought the urge to touch his mark was overwhelming last time she saw it, it’s nothing compared to how strong the urge has become now that she is so close to accepting everything it represents. 

She’s not certain how long she stares before she looks back up at Thomas. He’s looking back at her like--

_ Not yet, Juliet. _

“What do you think?” he asks, his voice a little strained.

She blinks, taking a second to remember why they’re doing this in the first place. She’s supposed to be helping him figure out whether this is the beach in his tattoo. She looks around. “It could be,” she lies. She looks back toward him, feeling as if she’s standing on the biggest precipice of her life.

Inhale, exhale.

She should blow him off, should ask him to check out a more populated beach, should get the team involved, should do anything except--

Juliet steps closer to him and reaches out a hand toward his mark. “May I?”

“Knock yourself out.” There’s no way she’s imagining the gruffness in his voice. He must feel this, too, must want it.

She thinks maybe they're both holding their breath as she makes contact, and it feels like there are sparks under her fingertips as she traces the familiar lines. This is good, how things are supposed to be. How  _ they’re _ supposed to be.

Juliet is suddenly hit hard with another trickle of fear. What if she messes up something that has so much potential for imperfect perfection?

She spins away as smoothly as she can on the sand and says something about him finding someone else to help. She’s not honestly sure what words come out of her mouth, focused as she is on the fear and longing warring inside her.

Inhale--

“Juliet.” Thomas comes close behind her, something achingly appealing in his voice. “Talk to me.” He sets his hands on her shoulders.

\--exhale.

It’s like the last of her resistance washes away at his touch, at the tone that tells her he already knows exactly what’s bothering her. He knows she’s hiding that they’re soulmates, and he still wants to be near her, and he’s still not pushing beyond what she can handle.

In this moment, she can’t remember why she’s been fighting so hard. She lets go, leaning back against his firm, still-uncovered chest. “Thomas,” she says, almost a whisper. She stops trying to think, to use logic, just feels. She feels the reluctance she’s been fighting. It’s distant, almost a memory in the heat of this near embrace. A minute passes before she speaks again. “I don’t care how obvious the universe makes it,” she says, because really, it couldn’t make it any more obvious, “I don’t know whether I can ever believe two people really are perfect for each other in a way that nothing can break.”

It’s like saying that out loud is what she needs. She hears it aloud, hears how silly that sounds in the face of everything else she knows and feels about herself, about the man behind her.

“You don’t have to,” he says, almost pleading, “but maybe you should at least try. See what happens.”

Juliet already knows what she wants to happen.

She pulls away, but only far enough so that she can turn to face him. She catches the raw emotion on his face and feels a rush of affection so strong it is almost painful. Thomas reaches out and cups her cheek, and her eyes nearly close at the contact. He stays there a moment before sliding his hand downward, stroking gently down, then out along her collarbone, under her unbuttoned blouse, over her shoulder. He keeps going until he’s slid it far enough off her arm that she knows her mark is exposed, then waits another few seconds before he looks.

Juliet watches as he takes in the match. There’s almost no surprise, and for an irrational second, she thinks he’s about to turn her down, to say he doesn’t want her that way, that they’re not good together.

“We can pretend I never saw it,” he starts, and her heart sinks until she registers his tone and hears the end of the sentence: “If that’s what you need.”

Of course he was only offering for her sake. That’s who he is. 

Forget being uncertain or scared. She feels her mark tingle, but she ignores it.

She leans forward and kisses him, and he kisses her back, and then they’re falling, and laughing, and kissing some more. Finally, Thomas drops his hand to her mark, and then gets distracted by looking at it.

Juliet doesn’t have to look. She already felt hers bloom into color as they accepted each other as soulmates.

And besides, she can see his mark in all its colorful glory.

They kiss again, and it feels like life might really, truly, be right from now on.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve considered writing Juliet’s POV on this story, too, since we only see Thomas’s here. Comments are always greatly appreciated, and I hope you all have a wonderful year!


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